


The Oncoming Storm

by Gallowmere



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Drama, Gen, Graham is 13's surrogate dad now, Graham is best grandad, Hurt/Comfort, I taught my mobile the word 'scronching', It's Doctor/Master but more about their bond than romance, Psychological Drama, The Doctor goes off and gets herself in trouble, The title, also, expect the Doctor going off the rails a bit, i don't make the rules, set after Spyfall part 2, the gang worry, we'll all get the popcorn when it happens in the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 23:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22201711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallowmere/pseuds/Gallowmere
Summary: The Doctor's acting odd so Team TARDIS decide to give her some space. But in their absence, the Doctor's solo adventures push her over the edge, and the Master couldn't be more pleased. [Post Spyfall, focus on the Doctor's and Master's bond]
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 133
Kudos: 451





	1. The Plan

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey, a fic for a different fandom! How’d that happen? Basically I watched Spyfall and the plot for this just jumped in my head pretty much fully formed and refused to leave. The companions show up in this chapter, but this is a more Doctor and Master oriented fic.

Team TARDIS couldn't pinpoint exactly what was wrong, just that there was definitely something _off_ with the Doctor. For five planets she'd been their tour guide and for once the trips were almost pleasant. They visited safe tourist spots and viewed great alien landmarks. The Doctor was especially attentive to Yaz, probably due to her scare on their last big adventure.  
  
But they could all feel she wasn't herself. She pointed things out and smiled, sure, but her manner didn't have that usual manic energy. Her charm and forthright Northern manner were muted too, like someone had taken hold of the Doctor Dimmer Switch and turned it way down.   
  
Then in the evenings they camped in the TARDIS together she was the opposite. Fixing every last part of the engine or any tiny rivet that was askew, trying (and failing) to make good ice tea, staying up longer than anyone else. Filling in silences with cheer that just felt forced. Several times the three of them exchanged looks when the Doctor wasn't paying attention, silently acknowledging the elephant in the room.  
  
That night they surprised her by sleeping over. They had all camped out in rooms on the TARDIS before, and they had all come to an unspoken agreement that they would keep doing that until the Doctor was her usual ebullient self again.  
  
Except that Graham had woken that night and wandered around in search of a glass of water. And when he went to the main room, he found her there.  
  
The Doctor, asleep on the console with the sonic and a wrench in her hand. A heap of gears and oil and mess was laid out in front of her, the latest debris of her hundredth project. He stopped and stared, disturbed. She had told them she didn’t need as much sleep as them, but even then she usually took it in her own room... he debated putting a blanket over her, but backed off, oddly fearful of disturbing her.   
  
He took Ryan and Yaz to one side the next morning in his room to tell them about it.  
  
"What, you mean like she'd been working again after we all went to sleep?" Ryan said.  
  
"More than that, I reckon she was doing it until she was too tired to stay awake anymore." Graham folded his arms. "We all agree this isn't normal, right? What should we do?"  
  
"...I think this has something to do with her home," Yaz said.  
  
"Yeah, but she don't want to talk about that. The Doc's probably gonna shut down more if we push her."  
  
"What if we give her some time?" Yaz suggested. "Tell her we need to get back to normal life for a few days, check in with her at the weekend?"  
  
The other two considered, Graham looking the most doubtful. Yaz pressed, "If it's a thing she can't tell us about, she might need space. I'd rather she talked to us, too, but she acts like she's just elsewhere right now."  
  
"She has a mobile, right?" Ryan said suddenly, "It's not like we can't check in with her everyday."  
  
"Right, exactly," Yaz agreed. Graham still looked worried. "What do you think?"  
  
He took a deep breath in before nodding. "Well, all right. After all, she can't get into that much trouble before the weekend." He didn't entirely look like he believed it though, smiling weakly when Yaz rubbed his arm.  
  
The three of them headed quietly out into the control room. The Doctor was already up, tapping away at one of the computer consoles. The three of them slowed down almost in unison, creeping around to see better without making a sound.  
  
Her face was focused, but the air around her was distinctly unhappy. She bit her lip and fidgeted as she worked, almost banging at the keys like her life depended on it. And she looked tired, the look ever more obvious since she didn't realise she was being watched.  
  
Then someone shifted their weight, making enough of a noise that she looked up.  
  
The Doctor spotted them and switched on a smile. "Morning, you lot!" She stood from her seat, movement totally without bounce. "Ready to get a shift on?"  
  
"Actually, Doc..." Graham started, then rubbed the back of his neck, discomfited. The guys looked at Yaz, silently nominating her. She gave them a look back right back, but cleared her throat.  
  
"We were hoping you could drop us back before we left. We just wanted a little time with our-" She cut herself off, feeling that any mention of families or home would be the wrong move right now. "Back in Sheffield, to take care of some... stuff." 

"Oh," the Doctor said, looking at each of them in turn. "All right."  
  
And she started to flip switches without so much as a sad puppy dog look. The others exchanged yet another set of alarmed glances. This time Ryan cleared his throat.  
  
"We'll see you again at the weekend, yeah?" he said, trying to catch her eye. "This- this weekend, not one ten years in the future."  
  
She looked up, smiling. "Yeah! Course we will."  
  
"And we'll text you, all the time," Yaz said. "And WhatsApp, I'll make us a group - Team TARDIS!"  
  
A dark cloud passed over her features at the mentioned of WhatsApp before she brightened again. "Yeah. Sounds brill."  
  
"In fact-" Graham grabbed her phone off the console and thrust it into her hand, where she stared at it like it was a paper weight. "Keep it on you all the time, OK? And I - we - want updates so that we know you're all right, OK? If you need help with anything, anything at all," He reached over and closed her fingers around the phone, "You give me a ring, all right, Doc?"  
  
They'd known the Doctor to be hot and cold about physical contact, but right then she just looked blank, like she didn't know what to say. "Yeah," she said again eventually, scronching a bit and trying to sound breezy. "No problem. I know all about technology, I can handle this one jut fine. See?" And she pulled away, slipping the phone in her coat pocket.  
  
Just then there was the familiar groan of brakes and the sensation of motion coming to a stop. The Doctor went to the door, opened it and looked out. "There we go," she said, still staring. "Sheffield. Night you left."  
  
The three companions shared one last anxious look before joining her at the door. Graham cleared his throat and the Doctor scooted over to let them pass. But the three of them lingered still.  
  
"Remember what I said, OK, Doc?" Graham said. The Doctor just raised her eyebrows in mock surprise.  
  
" 'Course," she said, burying hands in her pockets. "I'll see you at t'weekend." And she headed back into the TARDIS, sitting back down where they'd found her.  
  
Reluctantly they all filed out, Graham taking one last look back when he got to the door. The Doctor was watching them go behind the curtain of her hair, then quickly looked away when their eyes met.  
  
The door had barely shut when the TARDIS began the familiar _vworp_ , _vworp_ and disappeared. Yaz sighed a deep sigh all of them seemed to feel.  
  
"Are we doing the right thing here?" Ryan said.  
  
"I don't know. But we'll text her like we said. I'll make a group chat, and we'll take it in turns individually, so we don't come off like we're bombarding her."  
  
"Are you overthinking this just a bit?" Graham asked.  
  
"Um..."  
  
"Yeah, Yaz, we want her to know we care." Ryan nudged her with his shoulder. "We got a plan between us. We gotta trust her and everything will be fine at the weekend."  
  
"Right..."  
  
Together they headed down the street, each trying to push down the bad feeling they had. Yaz kept glancing back, thinking of how close to death she had come at the Master's hands. And the Doctor was the type to put herself in situations like that every single day, except now she was all alone...  
  
Graham squeezed her elbow reassuringly, gesturing to his phone. She nodded, not able to stop herself looking back at the empty spot where the familiar blue phone box had been. Then she shook her head, turning back around and trying to focus on what Ryan and Graham were teasing each other about. 

After all, what was the worst that could happen in a couple of days?


	2. The Facility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor intercepts a signal from a faraway planet... a signal specifically meant for Gallifreyans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter’s just the Doc, mostly. I’m hoping Temerellians aren’t actually something in the show, since they’re supposed to be made up. For a visual reference, think of something similar to the aliens on Kamino in Star Wars Attack of the Clones.

Chapter 2: The facility 

The Doctor stood alone in the TARDIS, listening to the faint humming of the engines. She hadn't set any particular destination, except for orbiting earth far enough out to avoid satellites. She had given up her twiddling and tinkering, couldn't seem to sit still. So she crossed over to the door and opened it, sitting down cross legged and staring out into the black, at the stars.It was warm, here in the TARDIS, but she could always feel the cold press of the void beyond. So many times she had thought about just never coming back to any port, just her and her little ship sailing on forever and ever... and she'd had that thought more and more lately.The fam had left her to attend to their own lives, like other companions did every once in awhile. That wasn't too surprising, she figured. They probably needed a break from her and all the danger she had put them in lately. She couldn’t really begrudge them that, especially with how tiring behaving normally had been lately. All she could think about was Gallifrey. Where the hell was she even going to start with finding the truth about what the Master said? And did she even want to? 

Because if she pulled that thread, there would only be a limited amount of time before her team started asking questions. And then she would have to start telling them more and more, until she was caught up in her past yet again...

Thinking about it gave her a funny feeling, like there was a tight vice around her chest. 

She stood up, taking one last look at the quiet of space and the earth below, then shut the doors. Maybe she should get some sleep... Even by her standards, she hadn’t been able to get much lately...

Suddenly the TARDIS meeped. The Doctor turned, heading over to the console, which was continuing to beep insistently at her. She tapped at the controls, seeing it had picked up a signal. Curious, the Doctor messed more with the controls to isolate and analyse it. Maybe a distraction would give her something to do while she figured things out...

She stopped cold, the signal analysis showing one thing very plainly: this wasn’t just a signal, it was one encoded in Gallifreyan. 

It was a signal meant exclusively for Time Lords. 

Hardly daring to breathe, the Doctor zeroed in on the signal, finding it came from the Temerellians. She hadn’t been to Temerell in a long time, only really vaguely remembered that the Temerellians were both formal and incredibly forthright at the same time. 

And they were also ruthlessly pragmatic, to the point of complete emotionlessness. 

She was going have to play this one cautiously. No setting off traps and figuring things out later. For once. Maybe. 

The Doctor locked onto the signal, setting co ordinates for landing on Temerell just slightly away from it. If this signal was for Time Lords specifically, making it obvious she had a TARDIS from the word go didn’t seem like a good idea. She was too tense to start tinkering on the way and no one to have a conversation with, so she started looking around for a distraction. She retrieved her phone from her pocket and opened WhatsApp, navigating to O’s page to see if he’d messaged her back - 

She shut the app down quickly. Stupid habit. Needed to get out of it. She uninstalled the app, not bothering to check her other messages before dumping the phone back in her coat. 

Nervous energy was bubbling through her and she kept pacing up and down on the journey. Eventually she went to the doors and opened them so she could watch the stars drifting by. 

Who needed chat messages anyway? Going dark for awhile, that was the prescription. Right now she wasn’t fit for any sort of company. She couldn’t shake the feeling she couldn’t breathe and the more she had to hide it from anyone, the worse it would get. 

The planet came into view, her touchdown point likely to be the side of the planet currently in nighttime. Temerell was pretty enough, lots of high vegetation and curious animals, but the people were the most distinct thing. Still bipeds, but they were tall and slim, long-limbed with blue skin and big, blinking eyes. The last she had seen of them, they had been expanding rapidly, their population growing as fast as their cities. Unlike humans, they were very strict about managing their resources, but even then they would likely be looking into other technologies by now... 

The TARDIS stopped in a dense thicket of woods and she saw immediately her hunch was right. Night time. The greenery hummed, some of the leaves starting to release light back into the air. The Doctor stepped out, pulling the TARDIS door shut and gently tapping the sign. 

“I’ll be back. Don’t let anyone in until then.” She could have sworn she felt a thrum of warmth from its engines under her hand, and smiled genuinely for the first time in days. Then she turned and looked out into the darkness. She was fairly close to where the signal had come from, so she shouldn’t have far to walk, but... She stripped off her coat and turned it inside out so the darker lining was on the outside, and her phone sat safer in an internal pocket. No signal out here to use it, anyway. 

She checked her sonic and psychic paper were secure and headed out. Lacking pockets to shove her hands into, her hands clenched and unclenched as she walked. The Doctor couldn’t remember when she had last been in such a desperate need of a distraction. She hurried up, the night air cold on her skin. 

There was a little shrine on her right, steps up to architecture split open like an egg. Classic Temerellian, still well kept. No signs of life though. The Doctor turned up her collar and kept her head down anyway as she walked. 

The forest floor inclined upwards and the Doctor came to the top of a hill, the trees dropping away to a valley. Dunes of grass moved in the wind and nestled at the bottom of the valley was a huge Temerellian building with a domed roof. A faint light came from within, golden and welcoming. The tiredness from her bad sleeping habits the past few days crept up on her again and it was tempting, so tempting to just go up and ask about the signal. 

They were looking for Gallifreyans. They might be friendly. 

The Doctor headed through the shrubbery, looking closer. She could see all manner of species in the dome - Temerellians, definitely, but others too. There was something in the ground, too, flashes of light. The Doctor scanned it with the sonic, finding energy heading out in all directions from the dome. An energy processing centre? What would they be sending a signal out for? 

She watched from the woods a little longer, but no one came or went. Finally the Doctor gave in and headed out, walking straight up to the front door with the psychic paper in her hand. Hide and seek wasn’t really her style. 

A Temerellian was at the door, the tall neck swinging the domed head her direction as she approached. Play it cool, she told herself, still wishing she had some pockets to bury her hands into. 

“Hi!” she said, smiling brightly and flashing her psychic paper. “You were expecting me, right?”

The Temerellian read her paper and smiled. “Of course, Inspector! Right this way.” And the long limb stretched out to take her in a firm grip around the shoulders, escorting her inside. “It’s been some time since we had a biped of your... Stature. May I ask where you’re from?”

“Earth. Obscure planet, you might not have heard of it,” she said, as she was led through the high doorway into a glassy chrome foyer. Other Temerellians looked with open curiousity, nodding politely to her as she passed. “...I freelance.” 

“May I ask what to call you?”

The Doctor paused. “You can - call me Thirteen.” 

“Very good, Inspector Thirteen.” The Temerellian led her into a larger area, strong arm still clamped around her shoulder. “You may call me Talark.” The Doctor longed to shrug it off, but maybe this was protocol. She wasn’t good at undercover work, but if the reason Gallifrey had been massacred was hidden somewhere in this place, she would just have to suck it up. For now. 

Up ahead was a huge glass pillar, a cylinder in the middle filled with swirling energy of every different colour. A strange feeling prickled the Doctor’s skin as she looked at it, but before she could say as much Talark escorted her to another room, a smaller one with an oval seat. Talark gestured for her to sit, folding up her long limbs on the seat opposite. 

The Doctor sat down, glancing around the room for clues, but like most Temerellian buildings it was plain and smooth, no plans in sight. “Not too far behind schedule, am I?” she asked breezily. “Hope you weren’t waiting out there all night.”

“Of course not, Thirteen. I oversee visitors.” Talark pressed a hidden button on the seat. “Someone will arrive presently to escort you to where you need to be.”

“Don’t have a map? I can find my own way around.”

“That is not necessary, Thirteen. There is a person in this building who will show you everything you need to know.” 

“I see.” Silence ticked between them. The Doctor was normally good at breaking it, but her usual gift of the gab had deserted her. And Temerellians were nothing if not efficient. Small talk wasn’t their forte either. 

Except this one did break the silence. “You’ll notice our facilities are built to accomodate all size and shape of creature.”

“Hm?” The Doctor looked around. Now that she mentioned it, the ceilings were higher than most, even if the Temerellians were tall to begin with. “Oh, definitely. ‘Course, height’s not really my issue anymore...” She caught herself, adding quickly, “On this planet. Other places, not so much.” 

Talark nodded and relaxed, the eyes blinking slower in their equivalent of a smile. The Doctor relaxed back into the seat too, trying not to fidget. Regeneration jokes. Stupid idea. 

Talark laid her long limb across the back of the seat, long fingers tapping at the hard surface. “If I may say, Thirteen, we don’t get many inspectors of your stature.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, yes.” The big, beady eyes blinked slowly. “In fact, when I first saw you, I hoped you were a Time Lord.”


	3. The Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor discovers the truth behind the distress signal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Mostly just the Doc again in this one. Next chapter, everything hits the fan, so stay tuned!

The Doctor controlled her reaction, careful not to give anything away, but before she could ask, the door opened and another Temerellian walked in. Talark gestured him over. 

“Tamarn, over here. Come meet the inspector.” 

The Doctor stood as the Temerellian approached, towering over her and then inclining his head politely. She held out her hand for a shake. 

“Hi! Love your facility,” she said, beaming. “Inspector Thirteen.” 

Tamarn looked at her hand, confused. He looked at Talark for guidance before taking it, just squeezing before letting go. 

“Earth custom,” she explained, “Love a good handshake.” 

“May I ask,” he said, looking her over, “Are all Earthlings as small as you?”

She blinked, momentarily blindsided before bursting out laughing. “Funny,” she said, laughing still. “He - he’s a joker, right, Talark?”

“That was not a joke, Thirteen.” Talark rose, brushing herself down. “Though I did want to ask you - we had not heard of Earth before. Is it a good planet to search for sources of energy?”

Then Tamarn said “No!” so fast even Talark was alarmed. He cleared his throat, meeting their gazes with an apologetic one. “I beg your pardon...but may I say that Earth is not a good consideration for future searches.”

“Why? Distance?”

“No,” Tamarn said. “It is defended.” 

The Doctor kept her expression carefully neutral when she asked, “And may I ask, by who - or what?”

He looked surprised. “You don’t know? The Oncoming Storm.” 

A cold chill went down her back. Even now, that name persisted. 

“What is that, Thirteen?” Talark asked. “What storm? An environmental defence?”

“I don’t know,” she said, quietly. 

“In truth, I do not know either,” Tamarn said. “Only that any planet who has previously set eyes on Earth has regretted it, deeply. Whatever creature guards that planet, I would not engage with it at any price.” 

The Doctor coughed. “Right...” She turned to Tamarn, raising an eyebrow. “Right! Let’s get a shift on. Things to inspect?”

Tamarn nodded again, gesturing for her to go first. The Doctor assumed her usual swagger out the door, trying to look like she knew where she was going. Then she stopped, saying, “Actually...” like a thought just occurred to her. Tamarn’s big eyes focused on her and he even bent down a little to get to her height. “Talark was just saying something, that she was hoping to see a Time Lord? Why’s that, d’you reckon?”

Tamarn tilted his head to one side. “May I ask, Thirteen, how aware you are of the sites you are to inspect?”

“Ah. Well...” the Doctor turned away, trying to look sheepish. Honesty was the best policy with Temerellians, so she looked into his eyes and said, “In truth, Tamarn, I’m covering for someone, so I didn’t get a lot of time to look at all the material. So maybe you could...?”

It had the desired effect. Tamarn blinked slowly and nodded, gesturing for her to go through another door and down a long, long passage. She carried on, eyes out for any scanners or anything that could trip her up. She’d been on this game for such a long time she was starting to get a nose for danger, and she had a feeling some was coming her way soon. 

At one end of the passage was a huge metal door, round and bolted at each end with a key system designed for Temerellian digits. She gave a low whistle and pointed it out. 

“Nice security,” she said, sneaking a hand into her internal pocket to see if she could secretly point her sonic at it. “What’s past there?”

Tamarn looked. “The core of our energy system. It supplies to sites all across the planet, as well as everything else in the plant. There is a viewing deck on the upper floor where I escorted a few others today.”

“One single source of power? Not a bit dangerous?”

“It is very secure,” he told her, “And would take a massive hit of energy to disable it. That is one of the things we were hoping for, actually,” he said, leaning close and whispering confidentially. “If you have any ideas for design improvement, we would be happy to hear them. If I may ask, what are Earth’s capabilities for energy storage?”

“Not bad, not bad. Happy to take a look at your, uh, plans.” 

He blinked slowly again and leant back and she took that to mean he was happy. But then his big arm swooped her the other direction down the corridor and this time the Doctor couldn’t help flinching out of his grip. 

He looked down at her, big eyes zeroing in on her face. “You asked about the Time Lords. This way is first.”

“Ah, right. Lead on, then.” She cleared her throat and focused her gaze straight ahead, not looking at him as they walked. She wasn’t sure if Temerellians were good at reading emotion in species other than their own, but she needed to act natural. The nervous energy she felt as they traversed the corridor was so great that she had to start whistling to distract herself. Tamarn tried to imitate her and came out with an odd honking sound. She laughed. 

They finally stopped at another door, but this one was far less secure looking. There was just a biometric reader as security and no other reinforcements. Tamarn used his print to open the door and gestured for her to go in. She nodded her thanks and went in first, her attention immediately drawn to the centre of the room. 

It was a huge machine. The main body was a huge container, big enough to hold a Temerellian, but there were massive metal clamps, like restraints, within it, and arms to adjust where they fell. Immediately above it, another huge arm ending in a sharp, massive spear. It was the cleanest, shiniest thing on the machine, but the Doctor could see wear and tear to it more than any other parts. And when she looked more closely around the upper restraints, she saw distinct scratch marks on the table. 

She breathed out, slowly, looked beneath the machine instead. There were tubes running from it, the capture of...something...being led to another machine that measure energy levels. 

“You capture energy with this,” she said, feeling nausea building in her throat, “Don’t you?” 

“That’s right. We thought you were sent to see if it needed to be decommissioned, but I imagine your superiors had no time to inform you of that?”

She nodded, but she was hardly listening anymore. There was a terminal in front of the machine and the Doctor crossed to it, pressing a button and getting the view screen to come to life. Tamarn didn’t interrupt her, but he did make a surprised clicking noise when she navigated the machine’s internal file system with ease. The Doctor didn’t think it was that impressive. The Temerellians had one of the most straightforward indexing systems in the galaxy, after all. 

The files she wanted were obvious - labelled as Gallifreyan, nearly fifty of them. She accessed the first, and a rudimentary video popped up on screen. 

A Time Lord was stood before the machine, speaking with a group of Temerellians. There was no audio, but they seemed to be having a friendly conversation. Then one of them stabbed an electric taser straight into the Time Lord’s shoulder, incapacitating him. The rest descended on him, long limbs easily lifting the Time Lord into the containment chamber of the machine and securing him with the metal bonds. 

The Doctor’s throat tightened, praying she wasn’t going to see what she knew she was going to see as the Temerellians turned the machine on, the metal arm raised and stabbed the Time Lord straight in the chest. She bit her lip so hard she drew blood as the Time Lord screamed soundlessly on the screen and artron energy burst from his body as he regenerated. A Temerellian clicked buttons to adjust the restraints to the Time Lord’s new size and they waited until the energy died down and the Time Lord was gasping and confused to raise the arm and stab him again, more golden artron energy bursting out and filling the walls of the machine before being siphoned off. 

The regeneration finished, the Time Lord dazed and confused. 

The arm raised again, covered in Gallifreyan blood. 

The Doctor hit pause. 

She had never wanted to be sick so badly in her life. She ground her teeth, not looking back as she breathed heavily, trying to regain control of herself. “You kill them,” she said, barely even recognising her own voice with how remote she sounded. How remote she felt. “You killed them?”

She looked back at Tamarn. His eyes were bright, proud even. “That’s right, Thirteen. We were short on energy to power our rapidly growing cities, but we researched and discovered species that could provide it. The Time Lords were among our best finds. When injured, they released a massive amount of energy we could harness, multiple times even!” 

So the funny feeling she had felt looking at the core... It had been artron energy, regeneration energy...calling to her. 

She swallowed hard. “So you murdered them to get it?”

The big round eyes blinked slowly, surprised. “Of course not. We sent a signal asking for their help and then told them of our predicament. We told them there was a way could they help and would they like to. They all said yes.”

“But you didn’t tell them you planned to kill them?”

“We never saw the need. After all, if their death would help many more people, why would they ever object to it?” He crossed over to the machine, not noticing how hard she flinched back from him, and brought up another screen indicating the amounts of artron energy they had collected. It was enough to power the planet for several years. “They were so proud to have escaped their ‘pocket universe’, as they called it. I imagine they were even prouder to help a fledging planet like ours.”

The Doctor stepped back, trying to keep her breathing even and failing. “You said decommissioned earlier. Why decommissioned?”

He powered the terminal off, looking sad. “There have been no Time Lords here for some time. We made the signal stronger in an effort to get more, but no luck so far... This machine costs a lot to maintain, and with the rumour going around that Gallifrey is burning, it would be a waste to maintain it...”

Tamarn looked at her and whatever her expression was, his changed. “Thirteen, you look an odd colour. May I suggest an expectorant?” he said helpfully. 

She shook her head, swallowing hard to contain the bile in her throat. “Y’know, I think on the trip over, I got a little - space sick. D’you have somewhere...?”

“Of course. Down the hall to the right. You’ll notice we have facilities for bipeds of all shapes and sizes - I showed one to someone your size earlier today!”

He was still yammering but she had already raced from the room, hurrying down the hall so fast she attracted the attention of more Temerellians who politely asked if she needed help. She ignored them, hurrying into the first bathroom she saw and leaning over the first basin. The Doctor gasped, breaths coming short and she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to contain the sounds of her horrified agony. 

Pragmatists. She knew they were cold, hard pragmatists, but this...

Time Lords had escaped the pocket universe, answered the very first call for help outside of Gallifrey...and died. 

Been murdered. Harvested. 

She could just imagine the scene. A group of Temerellians escorting them to the room with that hideous machine. Politely asking, ‘May we ask for your help?’ and then, the moment the Time Lord said yes...

The Doctor grasped the sides of the sink, hard. A low growl escaped her and she caught sight of her own eyes in the mirror. This feeling...she hadn’t felt it in a long time. This felt like when the Master told her to kneel, grabbed her by the throat, all the rest of his bullshit...everything from that, but magnified by the burning rage of a thousand suns. 

She bit down on her wrist and screamed into it, the muffled sound doing nothing to satisfy her. 

Gallifrey had been saved for nothing. Everything had been for nothing. And she was left behind, grieving it out alone in the dark. Like always. 

She stared herself down in the mirror, feeling her rage building and boiling within her. And then she spotted a tiny sentence someone had carved in Gallifreyan characters just above her head. 

It read: Get out. 

She carried no weapon except the strength of her anger. She took the sonic from her internal pocket, face contorted in a snarl as she used one of its hard edges to carve back a single character in return.

Justice.


	4. The Oncoming Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor strikes back against the facility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed so far! It’s really nice to have such enthusiastic feedback. For anyone who’s waiting for the Master to show up and the fam to reappear, it’s soon, I promise. Also, hopefully the Doctor’s not too OOC here. She’s pretty much past breaking point though, due to this and some other stuff that will come up later.

The Doctor headed back to meet up with Tamarn, beaming from ear to ear. “Hey,” she said, “Listen. I have a great idea for how you can improve your energy storage.”

“Really?” he said. 

“Oh, definitely!” she said, scronching the most charming scronch she could manage. “But, listen, I need to get into the core to see it. Looking at the other cylinder from the front hall, it looks like you’re using a triple cylinder bypass. Nice design, bit outdated. But I can’t be sure until I see the core up close.” 

“Well...” 

“Make it as efficient as possible, right?”

He looked discomfited for a moment before blinking slowly and nodding his domed head. “All right. May I ask that you tell no one I let you see it?”

“ ‘Course. No bother.” 

He didn’t seem to take her meaning but escorted her back down the hall anyway. She passed others on the way, others that weren’t Temerellian. Were they tourists to the centre? Or were they envious of the progress the Temerellians had made...? 

The Doctor eyed them as she passed, struggling to keep her face neutral. How many people knew what was being done here? Was it just an open secret to everyone except its victims?

“Thirteen?” Tamarn said, concerned. She snapped to attention. They were coming up to the door. His hand moved to the biometric reader and then paused. “You did promise...”

“Of course. You won’t get in trouble for this,” she said, smiling. To any human her smile would have been obviously fake, but a Temerellian couldn’t read her that well. He nodded, reassured, and put his hand on the panel. The Doctor’s breathing sped up as the vaulted door began to click open, lock by lock. Her fist clenched as it swung open, revealing the huge glass chamber of the energy core. 

It was even brighter than the one in the great hall, the cylinder running off several shoots, the largest to the floor below and other small ones reaching out the walls. The Doctor took in her surroundings. There was a round walkway up above, where yet more species were looking down on the core. The walkway was nice and high up, far enough that they ought to be safe...

She turned her attention back to the core, looking at the different types of energy swirling within. So this wasn’t just the core, it was where the energy was held before being refined and separated. Tamarn had said before that they had tried multiple species as an energy source. So what the hell else was in there?

The Doctor scanned it with her sonic, turning her back to Tamarn to hide it from him. She was reading mostly native energy types. So they hadn’t expanded out to other planets yet besides Gallifrey, as far as she knew.

She approached the core, the golden artron energy sensing she was there and swirling to the front of the glass chamber. The Doctor raised her hand, gently touching the glass. The artron energy swam towards her, rising and falling in golden spirals. 50 lives had been taken to get all of this. How much of it had been used already?

“Thirteen?”

“Hypothetically speaking...” she said, still staring deep into that golden light. She gestured for him to join her at the core and after a pause, he did, stooping down to see from her level. “How much energy would it take to put a fault in this? Like a really big, not fun one.”

“Well... May I say, you’re very concerned with the core. We can improve-”

“Put a number on it.”

He was stunned silent for a moment. She glared into the glowing golden light of Gallifreyan life, no longer able to master her expression. 

“...About fourteen thousand mega journs, I would think.”.

She nodded, taking it in. That wouldn’t even be a challenge. She turned back to face him, boring her cold gaze into his confused eyes. 

“You remember what you were saying earlier, about the Oncoming Storm?” 

He looked confused. Fear flickered in a round eye. 

Then she said, in perfect Gallifreyan, “It’s me.”

His eyes went wide but she struck like a viper, grabbing the side of his temple and wiping his memories in an instant. Tamarn’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the ground, incapacitated for the moment. There were gasps from the walkway above, but the Doctor was deaf to it. 

Let them come. 

She faced the core, laying her hand on the cold glass. She took a deep breath. 

Then another.

So they thought regeneration energy was powerful, did they?

She’d show them just how powerful it could be. 

The Doctor shut her eyes, reaching deep down into herself and calling on her own energy, her own lifeforce. Regeneration energy began to surround her and she channeled it down her arm and into her hand. Then she pulled more, still more. The glass of the core began to give under her hand. The Doctor gritted her teeth, her body protesting at her ripping out her own energies. 

Still more. Fourteen thousand mega journs more. 

The glass cracked beneath her touch, the crack spider webbing its way outwards into a massive fissure, little bits falling away under her touch. Finally there was a massive space, large enough to reach into. She stopped the flow of energy for a second, a second just long enough to inhale as deeply as she could -

\- before plunging her arm straight into the mass of energy. 

The artron energy, already nearest to the front, jumped onto her arm and clamped onto her skin, the feeling like fire trying to split her skin and clamber straight into her cells, home again. But she didn’t let it. She slammed her other hand on the cracked glass for leverage, wrenching her arm back inch by painful inch, more and more artron energy gathering around her as she did. 

It formed a net, sweeping up the energy with it, more and more until the Doctor could feel the pressure of holding onto it all lancing up her arm and striking her straight between the eyes. But she persevered, focusing it all under her hands and drawing the tension tighter and tighter -

Then, screaming at the top of her lungs, she slammed the full force of it right back against the core, the golden energy exploding and bathing her in destructive light and she felt the energy rebounding back and forth within the glass chamber and then one explosion was followed by another, then another and another until a chain reaction of fireballs were eating their way up the entire structure. The fire exploded down every vent, the whole thing cracked and rained glass down and the Doctor turned her face away to avoid the worst of the damage. She tried to throw herself to the floor but couldn’t, something still having hold of her. She couldn’t resist it any more, had to take it in and finally the iron grip of the energy gave and she collapsed to the floor just in time to avoid the smashing of glass above her, the force so strong she felt sharp debris tearing into her coat, her back. 

The Doctor looked up, fire still raging above. Everyone on the walkway was screaming, running for the nearest exit. The chamber was completely shattered, all the tubes joining to it burning and broken, fire everywhere. She thought she could have heard laughter in that mix, but she couldn’t be sure. Her ears were ringing...

She got up, balance thrown off for a moment before she managed to right it. Something was still glowing, but as her eyes focused she looked down and realised it was her. 

Golden regeneration energy glowed around her arm, coming off her skin in wisps before reattaching itself to her in a loop. The Doctor experimentally closed her fist and her skin stung and prickled with energy. 

Good. She was going to need it. 

She headed out of the room, sparing one glass back only to check if Tamarn was alive. He’d missed most of the blast, and the fire was focused mostly on the upper levels. 

But then he was lucky she cared for his life at all. 

More explosions shook the building as she left the room and as she headed down the corridor, the Doctor smashed the glass of the first emergency alarm she saw. 

Evacuate everyone. Distract them so she could escape. 

Win win win. 

Or, not quite. 

There was still something she had to do. 

The Doctor walked down the hall back to the machine room, bending the door back with the regeneration energy still surrounding her arm. The machine stood in the centre of the room, spear still raised and clean as if nothing had ever happened here. 

She touched the side with her nail, drawing it slowly down as the regeneration energy cut through the machine like a knife, the machine dropping into two clean halves when she had finished. 

There. Problem solved. 

Another alarm started blaring, different than the one she had set off. 

Better get a shift on. 

The Doctor hurried back down the hall, shaken by explosions going off elsewhere in the building. Each one brought her to cold, hard reality: once the dust had settled, the entire facility would likely be compromised. She had destroyed the very centre of their energy storage in one fell swoop. 

And it had been easy, so very easy. She hadn’t needed to use her intellect that much, brute force had been enough to wipe insignificant place off the map. 

She rubbed her temples, regretted it when the regeneration energy bore straight into her mind. She wasn’t thinking straight... She needed to go...

The Doctor made it downstairs, many of the Temerellians and their guests already evacuated. Front entrance was a bad idea if a massive crowd had gathered there, so she made for a side exit instead. The door was open, the blackness of the woods right ahead, ready to swallow her up...

A plasma shot fired at the wall and Talark cried, “Stop!”

The Doctor stopped dead. She turned to face Talark, the Temerellian pointing the gun straight at her. The large eyes widened, blinking rapidly when she saw the coils of golden energy emanating from the Doctor’s arm. She swallowed hard. Her hand shook on the gun. 

“You did this, Thirteen? You... You were a Time Lord all along?”

“May I suggest,” the Doctor said, putting her hand on the wall and focusing the regeneration energy on it, “That you put down the weapon and back away?” 

“You - you have to come with me!”

The Doctor focused harder and cracks began to form up the wall, climbing quickly to the ceiling. “D’you want this building intact, or in pieces? Your choice.”

Talark hesitated, fear visible in her eyes. The Doctor upped the power, feeling a rush in her veins she hadn’t felt in years. The cracks in the ceiling grew to fissures, the room ready to give at any second. Talark gave in, throwing the gun down and crying, “Enough! Please!”

The Doctor turned and headed out the door, stopping only when Talark cried, “Who are you? Who the hell are you?” at her retreating back. 

She did not answer. She ran. She made for the woods, disappearing into it as soon as she could and not stopping until she was looking down on the facility from the hill. 

Massive pillars of smoke were coming from the ceiling, the fire completely broken through the domed roof and raging out into the sky. She could hear the roar of the inferno from here and the Doctor knew anyone left inside would be dead at worst, crippled at best. 

She lowered herself, slowly, to a crouch, the full weight of what she had done coming over her. Was Tamarn dead? Were others, the innocent visitors who maybe had just come as tourists, dead too?

It was only a matter of time before the rest of the planet knew. And they would know nothing, except that a blonde Time Lord had destroyed their beloved energy plant. Or did the rest of the planet know what they were doing here? Had they approved it? 

The Doctor hadn’t even given anyone her name, not really. She hadn’t even owned what she had done the way he would do. 

She focused her attention on the evacuees out front of the facility. All formed up in orderly lines like any good Temerellian worth their salt would do. 

It was only a matter of time before they spread out to look for her. Talark had let her go but she was sure to spread the word just who was responsible for all the carnage. 

She hurried deeper into the woods, back to the TARDIS. She had just reached the steps of the little temple she had passed on the way in when she noticed her hands. 

They were still golden with regeneration energy, plumes of it lifting off her skin like butterflies before settling on her again. Driving like this might be dangerous. She sat down, head reeling a little as she tried to focus, to contain the energy. 

Nothing happened. If anything, she felt like her head was spinning and the itch under her skin was pulling her apart. She dropped her head into her hands, combing fingers through her short hair and yanking at her roots. 

She could hardly breathe. She could hardly think. She hugged her arms with her hands, folding up on herself. 

And then someone applauded. 

Her head snapped up and there he was: the Master, stood before her applauding, a wide grin on his face like he hadn’t owned up to massacring their home world when she saw him last. 

“Impressive,” he said, “Better than even I was hoping for, love.”


	5. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of destroying the facility, the Doctor is confronted by the Master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I just saw the episode Orphan 55 and (mild spoilers) the Doctor is STILL keeping it quiet that Gallifrey was destroyed, so the fic should fit in nicely with where they're going with 13 (probably). I also really like the follow-through from Spyfall, where the Doctor is a bit crabbier and grumpier than usual, but it’s not overdone and she’s still (on the whole) more sunshine-y than 12 would have been. Anyways, thanks for all reviews so far!

A/N: So I just saw the episode Orphan 55 and (mild spoilers) the Doctor is STILL keeping it quiet that Gallifrey was destroyed, so the fic should fit in nicely with where they're going with 13 (probably). I also really like the follow-through from Spyfall, where the Doctor is a bit crabbier and grumpier than usual, but it’s not overdone and she’s still (on the whole) more sunshine-y than 12 would have been. Anyways, thanks for all reviews so far!

"What’re you doing here?" she snapped, fist clenching. He grinned, approaching so he was stood right before her. The Doctor didn't rise from her seat on the temple steps but watched him closely, patience well and truly worn out.

"Same thing as you. Picked up a distress signal, got curious." He smiled happily, like he couldn't be more pleased to see her. "But you far exceeded my expectations. Maybe they'll add ‘Scourge of Temerell' to your long list of titles?"

She glared at him, her rage still far from satisfied. But like usual, he pressed on.

"I wonder what the 'fam' would think about that?"

She growled, raising her hand to show him the golden energy still coming off of it in ripples. "You really picking a fight with me right now? Really?"

His eyes lit up, an intense look of anticipation in them. "Not at all," he said. Then, slowly, he knelt, keeping his eyes on hers the whole time, his smile only widening when hers widened in horror. "I came to congratulate you." He bowed his head, then looked up, ecstatic. "Doctor."

She tensed, looking away. "Get up."

"Doctor."

"Enough." 

He paused, chuckling. Then his voice grew soft and serious, "...Doctor."

"I said enough!" She slammed her hand against the ground and a surge of artron energy cracked the stone. He watched, happily, as she clenched her fist to her chest and struggled to regain control. She shook her head and looked away. "I'm not giving you what you want," she said. "I won't fight you."

There was a pause, and then he came and sat down next to her. A long silence ensued, the Doctor gripping her arms with her hands, trying to rub away the burning energy. 

"What was so bad," she whispered, "You had to kill everyone for it? You massacred the children... You set the cities on fire."

"I told you. You need to see it," he said. "It isn't something that can be described."

"...so you and me. The last. Again. Brilliant.” 

He chuckled. "Mmm... No. You and I were always the best of them. That never changed."

She rubbed at her temples. Her head was starting to pound as the adrenaline faded. She wanted to be furious with him, she knew the blinding rage was still there somewhere... but exhaustion was fast overtaking her. And she could feel she was scratched up - glass had cut her back and face, damaged her hands. But for some reason she couldn't direct all this excess energy to heal it. The reverse, in fact... it seemed to be... leaving her...

Her head had dropped onto the Master's shoulder without her realising it and she bolted back upright, furious with herself. Even he was stunned for a moment before chuckling to himself. She stood, not able to stand another quip from him but immediately black splotches spread over her vision and the Doctor's balance went, she staggered back -the Master caught her by the shoulders, steadying her. 

"Power trips have big come downs," he said softly. "And I'd know best, wouldn't I?"Her head was spinning too much to pull away. Why was she so tired? She usually only felt like this after regeneration...Damn it. What if all the artron energy she'd taken in and expelled was resulting in the same symptoms? 

She had to get... to the TARDIS...The Doctor wobbled a few steps forward, aware of the Master close behind her. One step, then another... she couldn't see her surroundings, never mind the TARDIS-

She staggered again and the Master caught hold of her, putting one arm around her middle and lifting hers over his shoulder.

"Which way?" he asked. She hesitated for only a moment before pointing in what she hoped was the right direction. He helped her walk along and some of the dizziness momentarily lifted.

"Can walk...myself."

There was a pause before he said, seriously and sincerely, "I've got you already." 

She shook her head, the weird sense of familiarity with how screwed up he was almost comforting. "Why are you like this..."

Her vision was seriously starting to black in and out but she stubbornly resisted the call for unconsciousness.

The Master was on the loose, yet again.

The Master was helping her to the TARDIS, if he didn't just ditch her outside to steal it. 

And if he didn't, she had the bad feeling she'd be out cold for a long enough time that any plan he had would be impossible to stop. 

She had made an enemy and hadn't gotten a shred of evidence about what the Temerellians had done.

She'd lost control.

She had earned all her monikers. A scourge. A destroyer.

An oncoming storm.

And soon she would lose her friends' faith in her.

The right to call them her family.

In short, she had messed everything up.

Her head was hanging so low by now that the Master was supporting pretty much all her weight.

"We're here," the Master said and she managed to look up just enough to see the beautiful blue box before her. Her Ghost Monument. The thought of it in the Master's hands... maybe she should just let unconsciousness come quicker. But when the Master tried to open it, the door wouldn't budge for him. She smiled a tired, tired smile.

"Doctor? Key?"

She raised a heavy hand and snapped her fingers. The door creaked open.The Master made a flat, annoyed noise in the back of his throat. She just had the energy to muster a bitter laugh.

Then he took her completely off-guard by reaching down and lifting her off her feet, adjusting his hold like she barely weighed anything. Which she didn't much, nowadays. And up til now she felt she was bigger inside for her smaller outside.Her head lolled to his shoulder. She should try to get down, complain more. But every nerve ending was fizzing with relief at not having to support her weight anymore. There was a faint ringing in her ears, maybe the sound of the energy coming off her skin.

The Master stood at the doorway to the TARDIS for a long moment and it occurred to her that maybe he didn't have a plan yet. She'd thrown him a real curveball, maybe for the first time in decades.

"Could...give me to them," she said, drowsy. "The Temerell...the facility... like any good plan of yours. Right?" She let her eyes close. "...your turn to...hurt me."

He said something back, but she couldn't make it out. She felt him move, crossing the threshold into the welcoming hum of the TARDIS, and the last thing she heard was the door clicking shut behind them.


	6. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone with the Doctor and the TARDIS, the Master debates his next move. But it might not be as easy to plan as he thinks...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's the longest by some way, so hopefully it'll satisfy everyone for a while. This fic will probably run to about ten chapters, or just under, so I have the ending in mind already.

The Master stood for a moment in the entryway to the TARDIS, admiring the gentle glow of the engine and the console the Doctor had clearly modified the life out of. The Doctor had stopped responding, eyes shut and dead weight in his arms, either blacked out or in a healing coma for now. So he headed into the ship, going down the stairs to try and find a room that was hers. 

Her human hangers on had obviously adopted a room each, little tacky Earth knick knacks still left there. They had been there recently, by the look of it. Had they gotten scared and taken off already? No wonder she was already so far over the edge...

The Doctor tensed, a pained look crossing her face, snapping the Master back into his search. He soon found a room with a couch and blankets collected from all over the universe strewn everywhere. Messy as ever. Must be hers. 

He eased her down onto the couch, keeping her upright while he prised off her coat. He realised with some surprise she hadn't traded in that new bright sky colour... just turned it inside out. There was the distinct shape of the sonic in one internal pocket, plus some other clutter. He grinned, slung the coat over his arm, then laid her head back, making secure she was securely arranged before racing back to the main room.His hand hovered over the console. 

Would the TARDIS allow him to drive? He said aloud, "I need to get us out of here before the locals catch up. You want her safe, you let me drive."

Then he touched the console. A harsh static shock made him swear - bloody machine - but then he was able to put them into orbit, hanging safe in space for the meantime. The Master stood, listening as the engines groaned to life and fell quiet again. He stayed still as silence resumed and the gentle engine hum filled in the gap. 

Then he started to giggle. The giggle turned into a laugh, then a full blown cackle. He laughed so hard he had to put a hand over his mouth to restrain himself. His sides hurt and his eyes streamed.

What a charmed life this was. The Doctor and the TARDIS, both at his mercy, all in one day. He clutched his ribs, trying to contain himself. 

Then he stopped short....

He didn't have a plan. Oh, shit. 

He hadn't anticipated this. What was he going to do? 

A shaking hand found its way to the console as he thought. 

She'd as good as suggested he kill her off for good, given him the means to do it. But he didn't really want to. For one thing, she'd suggested it herself, and that really took the edge off. The look on her face in the plane when she'd realised he was back... it was a work of art. A good trap exquisitely sprung. Handing her over unconscious to the bastard Temerellians was far less appealing by comparison. 

And for another thing, he hurt her because she got in his way. Because she just had to be peaceful and side with the bloody humans every single time. Not because he wanted to. What he wanted was to have the Doctor by his side. Comrades in arms.

Like it was supposed to be.

He ran a hand down his face, grin returning. No, he could work with this. He definitely, definitely could work with this. 

\- -

First, he'd better check how she was doing. He'd had his share of junkie power trip comedowns, he'd surely be able to handle the Doctor's. Though she'd definitely feel hit with a thousand human hangovers when she came around.

The soft ringing noise was audible before he'd even reached her side and the Master could see golden light shifting under her skin on her arms and climbing up her neck. It looked like regeneration sickness, but that made no sense. Unless...

He perched by her side and put a hand on her temple, avoiding the scratches on her skin.

Contact.

She wasn't completely out of it, given that there was a half-formed response from somewhere in her mind. He checked it, finding brainwaves consistent with post regeneration shutdown. The huge intake and expulsion of all that artron energy must have fooled her body into thinking she had just regenerated, sending her into a deep sleep to fix it.

Well, that was fine enough. But the problem was she was still losing artron energy, ribbons of it peeling off her skin in ways he didn't think even a mass damage regeneration would lead to. If she still had excess energy, fine, but there was a likelihood she was back to normal but was still shedding energy she'd need for future lifetimes.He experimented, sending a pulse from his mind to hers, trying to mimic a frequency to shut the energy back off again. At first there was no response, but then he felt something, a dim answering signal. The light settled, still a golden ringing under her skin, but it was no longer leeching out. The Master let go, turning from her to think. Problem one solved. 

Now what? 

He'd had a basic plan before: rattle the cages of her puny human friends. Maximum carnage. The usual stuff. But even though he'd spent so long being O that it had literally got him adopted into her circle of followers, he saw now that that plan had been far too nearsighted. She would stop him because that was what she always did. He might be on top for a short while, but it never panned out long term. Then, back to getting her on his side... it needed to be something big, after what he'd done to Gallifrey. And those friends of hers, were they still in the picture? 

Just then a persistent buzzing caught his attention. He looked around until he spotted her coat, still where he'd thrown it over the TARDIS railing outside. He went and grabbed it, rooting around until he found her pockets and the source of the noise - a human phone. The screen flashed a battery warning message. The Master searched the TARDIS until he found one of her modifications for a phone charger and plugged it in. Could be a valuable source of information... he turned to the TARDIS, setting co ordinates for Earth. He needed to be in range of a phone signal. 

\- - 

The minute he touched down on Earth, the Doctor's phone began to buzz repeatedly. The Master picked it up, finding the charge returned and that she hadn't even bothered setting a password. Paydirt. 

He checked the front screen, saw the thing was raising a notification of a message or something every second. She'd deleted WhatsApp, by he look of it. He went to the phone numbers, though, and found his number still listed there. Along with a ton of others. Besides the ones he expected, there were names here that looked old, and lots of them.

Bill. Martha. Rory. Amy. Clara. Rose.

And on and on. There was no evidence she'd spoken to them in some time, going by the call logs, but the numbers were still there. The Master frowned. Well, whatever. That wasn't what he was here for. He opened the messaging app.

More than ten in total. So they were all worried. Interesting. He opened Graham's to start. 

Fri 10pm  
Doc, just give us a bell. Just a quick one. Let us know you're OK.

Fri 3.30pm  
We'll see you tomorrow, yeah?

Thurs 5pm  
Wondering if you're OK. No one's heard from you.

Weds 5pm  
Hey Doc, it's Graham. Not right good with tech but the team showed me how to do this. Give me a bell if you want

Then he looked at Yaz's.

Fri 11pm  
Trying to get some sleep, but I can't... please, Doctor. If you need more time say so. Just say something.Anything. 

Fri 6pm  
Hi Doctor, just got off work... are you seeing these messages?

Thurs 5pm  
The others said they haven't heard from you... are you doing OK? I'm here if you feel like talking

Weds 9pm  
The WhatsApp group is waiting for you! Sent an invite!

And then Ryan's:

Fri 9pm  
Doctor, what's going on? Yaz seems really worried

Thurs 5pm  
Doctor, me again. Did you forget the WhatsApp thing?

Thurs 10am  
Hey Doctor, you forgetting to check your phone? Don't have too much fun without us.

Weds 10pm  
Doctor, Yaz passed on your digits. Hope that's OK. It's Ryan, natch. 

Just then a new text came in, from Yaz:

Fri 11.30pm  
I'll bring everyone to the spot you dropped us off tomorrow. Please be there. Don’t forget. We all love you.

The Master read it twice, feeling his lip curl. We all love you...They really did, didn't they? Her pretty little pets orbited her like planets around a star, and why wouldn't they? The bloody TARDIS, too. He'd never seen one open its doors on a click before. He'd learnt his lesson after losing his own ship, anyway. Started using a short range teleporter instead. Easier to keep track of. He drummed his fingers on the console, considering. He could easily reply to them in her stead, but that ruse would be up fast. 

So then what? The simplest answer was the best, he thought: turn them against her. They had no idea of the alien races she had destroyed to protect her precious Earth, that much was obvious. And now here was the perfect proof he was telling the truth: revenge junkie Doctor, crashed out cold in her own TARDIS. He'd seen a lot of the highs and lows over the years, but this was a particularly bad one. Maybe losing Gallifrey had been just too much to bear...

He giggled, clapping his hands as he went back through to check she wasn't about to wake up and wreck his plans. Sure enough, she was still asleep, turned on one side like the glass in her back was too painful to lie on. She'd almost curled up, her hair falling over one side of her face, hiding it. He chuckled to himself. Poor Doctor. The more he tried to get her attention the harder she fought to stop him, every damn time.

But the Doctor would come to him. She'd realise the humans just couldn't comprehend her, what she was capable of. She'd understand that together they could rule this puny universe like the king and queen they were. Pleased with the thought, he leant forward and tucked her hair back behind her ear. Then he froze. 

A big, fat tear was rolling down her face, more brimming at the corners of her lashes. And her face was contorted with a deep, agonised pain.The Master frowned. He had never had this himself after a power trip. Was she hurting somewhere? He pressed a light hand over her bangs.

Contact.

The Master didn't intend to look deep, since he assumed there was some pain somewhere he needed to flip a switch to shut off. Instead he was overwhelmed by a flood of images and words, half dreams half thoughts risen from her mind. Her dream was more like a stupor state, and she resisted his attempts to help her sleep, the pain communicating between their minds giving him an ache right between the eyes. 

The pictures overwhelmed him. Gallifrey burning, an answering call of anger and emptiness from her. And regret. Regret at running, at always being 'the Doctor' and never 'the Doctor of Gallifrey'. Anger at him. And massive disappointment. She wished they were still friends, almost as much as he. But he let her down so many times (had he?) that she was tired of trying. Tired down to her bones. 

But there was something else, something wrapped around the centre of her pain...He asked what it was and her jumbled mind supplied a ready answer. One thought was most prominent, running on a loop:How do I face them now? The Master would have scoffed, if only the agony wasn't so acute. He felt it, deep in the core of how she had defined herself: be kind. Travel hopefully. 

But she couldn't give up her war, and that meant taking troops with her. Leading them. Being the paragon.

But with Gallifrey's destruction her pain, and her past, were back. But a leader couldn't be doubtful, couldn't be drowning in darkness... so it was buried down, down, down so deep she pulled the Master into the vortex of her thoughts with her. And with the new sunshine persona, so bright and charismatic even O was taken in by it... it was supposed to be a fresh start. The best of herself carried forward. 

A new family to love.

That word almost had the Master doubling up with pain. Because she needed family like he needed an equal; a need as great as the need to breathe. She'd been running, looking for it all this time. And when it inevitably failed and the Doctor was alone and grieving, she just dusted herself down, started over. 

Because she felt she had to.

The Master was asking again now, wanting her to give him an answer:Why them? Why a species that failed so routinely, were so wantonly stupid and destructive? She was worth the whole lot of them put together.

But as faces flashed through his mind, he could see what she saw. Flawed creatures who wanted to be better. Who became some of humanity's best and brightest when they were by her side. And how different was that from what she wanted? 

To be better. To be brave. 

Never cruel, nor cowardly.

A promise made to herself. A promise she had been desperate to keep, this time. 

He saw her throat work with contained sobs, more tears sliding down her face. He didn't think he could fix this pain, it ran so deep. Instead he tried to encourage her mind -

Just don't think. Don't face it. Rest for now, then keep running.

She settled down again, not quite peaceful. He watched the tears run tracks down her face, thinking to himself. 

He had a rule he had never told anyone: he never considered himself to have really lived in a given regeneration until something moved him to tears.And here she was, crying for the loss of her stupid humans.

The Master rested his head on his hand. "Why are you like this..." he muttered.

No matter what, she always had to ruin his plans. Losing their trust now, when she was at her very lowest, might break her. Might push her to remember what she was, what she is and always will be. Alone, he was fearsome. With her, he'd be unstoppable. 

But then...

He growled his annoyance, heel tapping against the floor. Goddamn it. Goddamn her. 

He got up and headed back out to the console, snatching up her phone on the way past. He checked the co ordinates, finding the last ones she used go visit Earth, checking the timeline married up. 

In the text logs Graham mentioned tomorrow, so he replied:

Tomorrow. Same spot.

There was a near-instant reply, but the Master dumped the phone back on the console without reading it. He was confident she wouldn’t wake anytime soon, so he leant against a railing, deep in thought. One hand rested on the lever, ready to go at a moment's notice. All roads led to Earth. 

\- -

"You have the right to know, when you're putting your lives in danger under her care, who she is. Really is," the Master said. He smiled to himself. "The Doctor has many, many other names. President of Earth is one, but then there's... Destroyer of worlds. The Beast of Trenzalore. Butcher of Skull Moon, that's a fun one. The Destroyer of Skaro, the Bringer of Darkness, the Great Exterminator, the Slaughterer of Ten Thousand Souls! The Vessel of the Final Darkness... the Scourge of Temerell." He smiled more broadly. "She is the Oncoming Storm."

The Master paced, the little speech getting him worked up. "Fear me, if you want. But know her, recognise her. She ended a war with slaughter, then erased all of it from existence like it never happened. A war on our own home world." He leant forward, anticipating the final words. "Want to know the Doctor? Ask her one question: Why don't you take us to Gallifrey?" 

The Master leant back, enjoying the silence. 

Then he clicked PAUSE on his little recording, considered for a moment.

And he deleted it.

It was a good speech, all things considered. He liked to practise and adjust them in his spare time, but this one gave him an enjoyment second only to one other thing in his recorded library. 

And the looks on the human's faces when they heard it... God, it would've been so sweet.

He tipped the lever. Destination: Sheffield, Saturday morning. 

"The things I do for you..." he said aloud.

The TARDIS vworp-ed to life and the Master stood ready at its doors, adjusting his cuffs and straightening up. He hadn't really got a catchphrase with this new body, had he? He needed to work on that.

The faint boom of touchdown.

Show time.

The Master swung open the door, the three humans already gathered outside. Their faces turned from relief to sheer horror in a split second when they saw him. The Master had no time to work up his best Cheshire grin and say hi because Graham lamped him so hard in the face he went sprawling onto the floor.


	7. The Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team TARDIS go to the TARDIS to reunite with the Doctor, only to find their worst nightmare inside instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A bit of a deck clearing chapter, but hope you enjoy anyways. Thanks for all reviews so far!

They all went to battle stations like they'd planned it, Yaz's police training kicking in and following up on Graham's surprise attack by pinning the Master to the ground, shoving his hand up high behind his back, Ryan helping her and checking the Master's pockets for anything stolen and Graham launching past him into the TARDIS, yelling for the Doctor.

"What'd you do to her?" Yaz yelled, wrenching his arm further back as painfully as she can. "Answer me!"

"Nothing!" he snapped, struggling against them both. Ryan changed sides to the Master's other pocket and there was the first hint of panic in his voice for the first time as he yelled, "Hands OFF!"

"Not so smart now, are you?" she cried. "Not so superior!"

"Can't find anything of the Doctor’s," Ryan said, giving up on his pockets. "So what happened to her phone, huh? The sonic?"

"It's - they're right there on the BLOODY CONSOLE!" He tried to lift his head but Yaz forced him back down again. Just then Graham came racing back through. 

"I found her! I found the Doc!" 

Yaz and Ryan twisted round to look, relief flooding over them. 

"She OK?" Ryan asked.

"Don't know, think she's sleeping, I can't get her to come round. Yaz, you know first aid?"

"That'll help," the Master scoffed. "Like you know Gallifreyan physiology."

Yaz grabbed his hair and banged his head into the ground, not too hard to injure but hard enough to get him to wince.

"Yaz," Ryan said, surprise colouring his voice."

But you know, don't you?" she snapped. "Talk! Or I do that, harder."

"What does she see in you?" he mumbled. She twisted her grip around his arm in the harshest way she could manage. "Fine! M'kay. Don't have to torture me, Yaz."

"Don't call me that like we're friends!"

He smiled then, a twisted one that reminded her of O, O who she thought she could trust. She pulled his hair back, gesturing to Ryan. "Help me get him up." 

They forced him to standing, the Master still grinning like a cat who got the cream. "So what was it? Danger get too much for you? Did she get tired of you and throw you out?"

"We're asking the questions here, mate," Graham said, folding his arms. "What'd you do to her?"

The Master’s smile faded. "Nothing. I didn't do a thing. She found something she didn’t like, she took care of it.” He was smiling at this, like he was recalling a fond memory. Then he snapped back to attention.“And now she’s resting. No big deal.” He tried to shrug, which was difficult with his arms being pinned back. 

“Didn’t like? Like what?”

The Master levelled a cold glance at Graham. “A facility. Sending a ...message...to Gallifreyans. Pretty VIP only, but nothing good. So you can imagine, she isn’t feeling too great right now.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“There’s an internal pocket,” he said to Ryan. “Those documents are proof.”

Ryan reached in and pulled out a bunch of paper. They were covered in alien writing, but not just that. Drawings. Blueprints of a machine with a massive spear in the centre. He didn’t know what it was supposed to be, only that it wasn’t good. “The hell is this...”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s gone now. Like I said, she took care of it.” He took in their shocked faces, smiling. “When did you meet her? Did you see her regenerate?”

They all hesitated, not wanting to tell the Master any more than they absolutely needed to. Finally Graham said, “It was - right after. She talked about it the first time we met.”

“And was she firing on all cylinders then?”

“Not - not really, no.”

“That’s how she is now. She used up a bunch of energy and fooled her body into thinking she just regenerated, so... regeneration sickness. Disorientation, pain ...mmm... both likely. She gets a fever, put something cold on the back of her neck. Let her rest as long as she needs.”He looked around at them all, clamming up suddenly. “That should be all.”

“Why the heck should we believe you?” Ryan snapped. 

“She’s my friend,” he snapped back. “Why would I lie?”

“You said you were her enemy! Her best enemy.”

And the Master cracked up laughing, even doubling up as much as he could in their grip, his face creased like this was hilarious. Ryan twisted his arm to shut him up. 

“How do you live in something that small?” he said, laughter running dry. “No wonder she’s so...well.”

“So you’re saying she just needs rest?” Yaz said, resisting the urge to be baited by him. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. But regeneration sickness does take a lot of forms. I wonder if you can handle it.” 

Graham made a frustrated noise. “Forget it. We need to check on her. Yaz, do you have some cuffs? Let’s attach him to something and leave him.” 

“You bet. Change places with me.” She waited for Graham to take the Master’s arm before letting go herself, but the Master took advantage of that split second to shove them all as hard as he could, managing to get free for enough of a split second that he reached into his coat, pulling out a small device he had hidden. Ryan still had hold of the Master’s arm as he pressed something, an ominous blue light glowing in faster and faster pulses. 

“Ryan!” Yaz cried, as Ryan tried to knock the device from his hand. “Ryan, let go!”

The speed of the pulses reached fever pitch and Graham and Yaz both grabbed hold of Ryan, pulling him back just in time before the a blue light exploded over the Master and he vanished from sight. 

“What was that?” Ryan said, gasping. “Teleporter?”

“Double cheat,” Yaz muttered. 

They all glared at the spot where the Master had been, frustrated, until finally Graham cleared his throat. “C’mon. The Doc needs us.” Yaz went to follow Graham, but Ryan looked behind him, pausing to check the console. The Doctor’s sonic and mobile were sitting there, just as the Master had said. “Ryan?”

“Do you think he’s telling the truth? Do you think he hurt the Doctor?”

“Don’t know, son. We can figure that out, once we make sure she’s OK.”

Ryan hesitated a moment longer, a frustrated anger brewing in him. Maybe Yaz had had the right idea, banging the bastard’s head on the floor when she had the chance. 

Then he spotted the Doctor’s coat, folded up and thrown over a railing. It looked odd to see it without the Doctor, and when he went to pick it up, he noticed something odd - marks in the back. 

He opened it out, holding it up so they could all see it - slash marks down the back of the coat, tiny bits of glass falling from it when he opened it out. 

Yaz paled. She turned and ran deeper into the TARDIS, calling for the Doctor. Graham rubbed the back of his neck, taking a shuddering breath in. 

“That bastard,”he muttered. “If I ever see him again...”

And he turned and followed Yaz without finishing that thought. But Ryan knew exactly what he wanted to say, because he’d been thinking the same thing.

\- -

The three of them gathered around their fallen friend. Yaz leant over and checked the Doctor’s back and sure enough, “She’s scratched. Same pattern as the coat.”She leant back, frowning. “And...” She reached out, carefully retrieving something from the Doctor’s hair. “There’s glass here, too.” 

“Her face is scratched up, too,” Graham said. “We could - we could clean it up?”

Yaz bit her lip, looking at the Doctor’s back again. “I think I should do it. Could you guys, um, wait outside?”

“Outside? Oh, right, outside! C’mon, Ryan.”

“Call us if you need us.” 

Yaz nodded, looking sadly down at the Doctor. The Master had said the Doctor had regeneration sickness, but she looked worse than that. Her sleep didn’t look peaceful at all, and Yaz thought she could even see tear tracks on the Doctor’s face. Graham had probably already noticed, but she took out a makeup wipe and gently wiped her face anyway. 

Yaz had had friends in school, plenty of them, and sometimes been a shoulder to cry on. But looking after a shapeshifting alien who was potentially hundreds of years old? This was new. 

But that wasn’t going to stop her from being there for the Doctor, now or anytime in the future. 

\- -

Graham and Ryan leant against the railings in the console room, awkwardly waiting for Yaz to get done. Graham had his arms folded, face crumpled with a deep frown. 

“Penny for them?” Ryan asked. 

“What? Oh.” Graham sighed. “Nothing really, son, just... We never shoulda left her, should we? There’re people you leave alone when they’re having a hard time, and people you don’t. It’s sure looking like the Doc’s one of the latter.”

“How would we have known that, though? Yaz’s plan sounded pretty sensible at the time.”

“And the mobile! Obviously the Doc wouldn’t pick up messages without being near an Earth signal!” He slapped his head with his hand. “Idiotic!”

“Didn’t she have a bypass in the TARDIS for that, though?” Ryan said. Graham was still shaking his head and looking elsewhere, so he put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. It’s not your fault. We thought we were helping.”

“I know, it’s just... It’s more than that, son. Looking back on it, when the Master was being all 007... I shoulda seen something weren’t right with him.” 

“How do you mean?”

“Well, he...” Graham paused, struggling to find the words. “The Doc and I went to his place in Oz, you know, and I kind of noticed that he was... How do I put this... Giving her the glad-eye.”

“He what?”

“Not like that!”

“How else can you mean that?”

“Well...it’s hard to explain.” Graham thought back to being in the hut with O. The more he’d thought back on it over the past few days, the more certain things had jumped out to him. How glad he’d been to see her. How natural they were with one another for two people who hadn’t really met properly before. “At first he just seemed like... how do you put it...a Doctor fanboy? But I remember noticing once or twice, when I looked his direction... He was watching her. And maybe not, y’know, in that way, but it was like... He was studying her. Fascinated by her, like she was his favourite TV show, or something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! And when you and Yaz were out talking on the porch, and she was in the TARDIS making ‘iced tea’, he told me he had all these files on the Doctor. Asked me if I wanted to see them! And if it was the Master collecting those files the whole time, not O...”

Ryan felt the pieces fit into place. “He was trying to mess with you, with us.”

“Feels that way. There’s a lot of things I don’t get about it, mind, but if he’s counting on us being as small minded as he thinks we are-”

“Then we have to be better than that.”

“Well, try to. But some of that depends on her letting us in. I don’t like to think of any of the family being in the state she’s in.”

Just then Yaz came back in. “OK. I’ve got her cleaned up. You can come back.” She had a blanket in her arms, one of the Doctor’s judging by the bright, unorthodox pattern on it. Yaz noticed them looking. “Thought I’d keep her warm,” she said. 

“No signs of waking?”

“Not yet. She’s really out of it.”

They followed Yaz back through to the Doctor’s room, finding that Yaz had turned her to lie on her back and propped her up with a mish mash of pillows. The Doctor looked a little more peaceful in sleep than she had done, and the three of them couldn’t help but be reminded of when she had crashed out on Graham’s couch, so long ago. Yaz cleared her throat to fill the silence and unfolded the blanket, laying it out over the Doctor. 

Just then, she turned her head and mumbled something. They all froze. 

“Doc?” Graham said, reaching down to touch her arm. Her face was tense, like she was trying to wake. And then she said it again.

“Grace...?” she mumbled, trying and failing to open her eyes. 

Graham looked back at Ryan, confused. Ryan remembered again that first night in Sheffield. 

“Nan put a blanket over her, stayed with her when she was resting...”

Graham felt a big lump rise in his throat. “Oh,” he said. He turned back to the Doctor, gripped her arm a little harder. “Doc, we’re here. You’re here with us. You’re safe.”

They all gathered round, conscious of crowding her but unable to help themselves. It felt wrong seeing her like this when she was usually so full of energy, so ready to bounce from one place to the next. Even tried to keep it up when she was out of sorts. 

The Doctor tried again to open her eyes, managing to raise them a fraction. She looked around, bleary and confused, while Graham moved down her arm to take her hand in both of his. 

“Doc?” he said. “It’s us. Do you recognise us?” 

Her eyes opened wider, a look of panic coming over her. She tried to sit up, alarmed, but Graham wouldn’t let her pull away. 

“How?” she breathed. “How are you all here?”

They all looked at each other, then her. Then they grabbed her in a spontaneous group hug.


	8. The Fam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and the fam talk, and the Doctor is forced to face up to everything she's been avoiding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! This is actually the most reviews I’ve ever had on a fic of mine, so cheers to that!! Anyways, two chapters left, then this fic is in the books :)

The Doctor's noise of surprise turned pretty quickly to one of pain and the gang let go, moving back to give her some space. She looked around them, said softly, "Sorry, still a bit... sore."

"That's OK, Doc."

"What happened? Weren't you all just..." Her face crumpled in confusion. She buried her fingers in her hair and pulled at the roots. Then she froze, slowly drew her hand back out, a bit of glass in her fingers. Her face fell as something dawned on her. "...Oh." She looked at each of the group in turn. "Was - was the Master-?"

"He was here," Graham cut in. "Texted us to meet you. Drove the TARDIS, I guess."

She looked conflicted over that bit of news, her face crumpling up like she was hurting. She collapsed back against the couch. "...Sorry. Feel... a bit fizzy, still."

"Doctor?" Yaz shifted her weight nervously. "What happened?" She hesitated, rubbing her head and not meeting anyone's eyes.

Graham cleared his throat. "Did the Master do something?"

"No..." She looked down at her hands. "We just ran into each other..."

Weird way to put it, they all thought, but didn't question it.

"He said something about a facility?"

"Yeah." She reached up and fished another bit of glass from her hair. "Bit hard to believe, but they had a signal going. Calling to Time Lords. 'Cept it wasn't the fun 'come and have a cup of tea' kind of signal." She dropped her head forwards, hiding under the curtain of her hair. "They were... they'd been... killing Gallifreyans. People like me, who came when they called."

They all exchanged horrified looks, Yaz reaching up to cover her mouth. "Oh my god, why?"

"They wanted to harvest them for regeneration energy." The Doctor's hand, bandaged up by Yaz, clenched on the blanket so hard her knuckles went white. "Fifty. At leasty fifty dead. So I found it. I found the centre of their plant and I destroyed it. I destroyed their machine. It was easy. It was so easy."

"Doc..." Graham gently rubbed her shoulder. "We're so sorry."

"You didn't do anything," she mumbled.

"We're still sorry. Must have been awful thing to find out."

She pulled back and Graham let his hand drop. The Doctor looked sheepish, tucked her hair behind her ear. She caught the plaster on her face with her hand as she did so, touching it like she only just noticed. "Did someone...?"

"That was me," Yaz said. "And I, um, patched your back up too. Hope that's OK."

But the admission just made the Doctor look more regretful. "Oh...Um...sorry. You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," she said. Se longed to hug the Doctor again, but the Time Lord looked so tense that she didn't try it.

"So uh...what now?" Ryan asked. "Should we warn Gallifrey about this?"

The Doctor tried to control her expression but she couldn't. Her face fell, total pain evident in her eyes. The three of them exchanged looks.

"Doc?" Graham said gently. "What is it?"

"It's gone," she said, her voice tiny. "Gallifrey is gone."

"W-what do you mean, gone?"

"Destroyed. Razed to the ground. Everyone's dead except me and - and him." She ducked her head, shoulders shaking with an effort to contain her sobs. But they could see tears dropping down onto her hands. "It always comes down to me and him..."

"Oh, Doc. We're sorry." Graham rubbed her shoulder gently but she tried to flinch out of his grip.

"Don't be - don't be nice to me," she said, vehemently. "I'm not what you think I am."

"What d'you mean?"

"I - I'm good at doing awful things. I've done awful things, some of them to protect Earth." She hung her head. "We're not that different. I'm just too..."

"Kind," Yaz told her. "You're kind and good. We've seen it..."

The Doctor was shaking her head. "All I feel is anger. I try to keep it under control, but I've been failing lately. I should be better than this."

"Good God, Doc, you lost your people. Don't you remember how awful we all felt about Orphan 55?"

"And that was only a possible future," Ryan said. The Doctor was quiet. Yaz perched on the arm of the sofa, very hesitantly raising her hand to touch the Doctor's back. When she didn't flinch away, Yaz started to rub soothing circles.

"Doctor," she said, "Why didn't you tell us about Gallifrey?"

The Doctor tensed.

"We need to know. We want to help you." The Doctor turned away, hiding behind the curtain of her hair.

"...barassed," she mumbled.

"What?"

"Was embarrassed. Ashamed. Wanted to... be better and brighter this time around. And for all of you." She looked up, sunken eyes meeting all of theirs. "My past is not a good place. A lot of it is messy. I just... so badly wanted a clean break." And she looked away, face splotchy and red.

Graham broke he silence first. He leant over and ruffled her hair. "What are you like, Doc. Who do you think we are?"

She looked up, confused.

"Team TARDIS, remember? The fam. Your fam." He looked at the others and they nodded their agreement. "When I said call if you needed help I was talking about times like this! If Gallifrey is burning we want to know. We want to help like you help every living thing else."

The Doctor's eyes were watery but she swallowed hard. "All this is too much for anyone to-"

Yaz hugged her from behind, taking the Doctor off guard. "Let us decide that."

Ryan joined in on the hug, Graham taking her hand again since there wasn't any Doctor left to hug.

"Doc, listen to me. You told me I should carry Grace with me, and not be guilty that I'm the one who lived, and all. Have you thought of doing the same?" He squeezed, gratified when she squeezed back. "It's OK to grieve them. That means you loved them. You don't have to hide that."

The Doctor hid her face against Yaz's arm.

And she cried.


	9. The Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and the fam reconcile, and the Doctor gives thanks where it's due.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all reviewers.

Team TARDIS decided another sleepover was in order, a better one this time. So they brought the Doctor a bunch of DVDs and settled in for a movie night. 

She liked the sci-fis the best, and rather than hating the hokey science she explained to them how the things onscreen could actually happen, or where humans might have gotten their ideas from. 

She was clearly still hurting, though, and dozed off more than once. But despite her pain, her sleep looked peaceful, deep enough that she didn't even stir during one of the Transformers movies. She did mumble sometimes though, odd alien phrases once, and then something about jumping from a tower window. Even with that though, they could all feel how much more relaxed she was. 

Then eventually, after the fifth movie in a row, they all drifted off. 

In the morning Yaz came around to a faint clanging sound. It took her a moment to remember she was on one of the rooms in the TARDIS, then she instinctively looked for the Doctor. But the couch was empty. 

Yaz scrambled up, deciding to let Graham and Ryan sleep, and went into the main room. The Doctor was under the console tinkering with something. She spotted Yaz and her face lit up. 

"Morning!" She climbed back out, spots of grease on her face and hands. Yaz saw the Doctor's coat hung over the back of a railing. It looked like she'd patched it up. "What? Do I have something on me?"

"Yeah, you do," she said, smiling back. "How are you feeling?" 

"Little sore. But better." She shifted on the spot. "Listen-"

Just then Graham burst into the room closely followed by Ryan. They both clocked the Doctor and slowed up.

"Doc, you're up. How are you doing?"

"Better." She leant on the console, started to fiddle with something. "Listen, I wanted to... thank all of you for... well, you know. Everything. And I'm sorry you had to see any of... well, that." 

"We already told you it was fine," Ryan said, and the others nodded, agreeing. She fidgeted a little, looking like she wanted to argue, but Graham cleared his throat.

"It's gonna suck and it's gonna hurt," he told her. "If you need to just feel how much it sucks, that's OK. We'll still be here." 

"...Thanks," she said, dead quiet and serious. There was a silence, then Yaz cleared her throat. 

"So," Yaz said, clearing her throat, "What next?" 

The Doctor rested her hand on the lever as she thought. Then she grinned. "No idea. Do it together?"

They all came to join her at the console, laying their hands on the lever one by one. 

\- - 

That night, when she was sure they had all drifted off, the Doctor sat down at the console. She set her shoulders back and shut her eyes. 

Contact. 

There was a long silence before she felt his answering call. He said nothing but she could feel his presence, like he'd picked up the phone and not said anything. 

Thanks, she told him. I don't know what you did, but I know I'd be a lot sicker without it. 

There was a long pause and she could practically feel him repressing the urge to stay something sarcastic. 

...You're welcome, he thought back. 

She wanted to say something more, but she wasn't sure of this Master. Did he come after Missy? Was his madness just the usual front, the usual game? 

But she wasn't going to try and help him, not unless things changed. She'd tried that for too long with too little success.

Until next time? she said. 

Do you even have to ask, love? 

She smirked, cut off the connection. The anger at him was bound to come back, but for now everything felt muted, almost manageable. Maybe it was because she had cried harder than she had in decades. 

The Doctor stood, feeling the need for sleep coming on. Soon she would let them know that it was the Master who had destroyed Gallifrey, and maybe even answer whatever else they wanted to know. No more secrets. 

And maybe with that it could be different this time. 

Because she knew in the back of her mind... letting them in was far more dangerous than continuing to shut them out. 

Suppose they were killed. 

Or they realised they hated her. 

Or they left.

If she gave them everything and she lost them, she knew she'd be crushed, just like she had been every other time. 

Ah, well.

One more try wouldn't kill her.


	10. The Transmission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master has one last card to play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed :D

He had already watched it several times, but the Master supposed one more time couldn't hurt.

The Master set the recording back to the beginning, hit play. 

The recording was grainy, but clearly showed the Temerell energy core from up above, on the viewing deck. The shot wobbled and focused in on two people down below: a Temerellian and the Doctor. 

Even with the poor colour quality of the recording, the Doctor looked pale. Shaken. There was a blankness in her eyes that heralded danger and the Temerellian had completely failed to see it.

She approached the energy core, movements slow, predatorial. The Master grinned. He loved this part the best, the anticipation of the storm...

She was saying something the audio couldn't make out, and for a moment everything was fine. 

Ten the Temerellian reeled back, terrified and the Doctor just tapped his temple, sending him crumpling to the floor. Golden light began to surround her and as she rested her hand on the glass core, wisps of golden energy were pulled towards her, attracted like a magnet. 

The glass cracked and she paused. He saw one final hesitation go through her, then anger possessed her like a maelstrom and she plunged her hand deep into the vortex of energy. The golden artron energy seized her, trying to take the Time Lord as its new home but she resisted, incredible pain on her face as she pulled it back, back, energy gathering around her in a massive sphere. 

Then the Doctor slammed it all forward and her scream was so agonised and full of fury that it split the limited audio on the recording. It hurt the Master's eyes to look but he watched the exquisite anger on her face and golden fire in her eyes as the glass core was completely destroyed and others around him had been screaming and running.

Then the fires began.

The Master had been forced to retreat, but he made sure his last shot was of the Doctor, rising from the floor with golden light rippling from her, the terrifying Time Lord renegade. 

Then the recording puttered out.

The Master shivered, immensely pleased he could relive the Oncoming Storm whenever he wanted. 

Poor Doctor. She wasn't the only one who could weaponise incriminating material. 

He adjusted the transmitter he had been working on, encoding his recording to go with it, and sent it out into deep space. 

With it, a single message:

The Doctor has returned. Beware the Oncoming Storm 

No, he didn't need to tell her friends a thing to win the game. The universe just needed a reminder who they were dealing with. No fresh start for her. No leaving it behind. 

Because no matter what she did, this was her true nature. The least he could do was help her realise that.

After all, it was her the universe feared. When he went on a rampage, deep down most believed the Doctor would stop him. She always did. 

But when the Oncoming Storm went on a rampage? Who existed that could stop her? 

Part one: show her what she really was. Remind her.

Part two didn't even require his intervention, not really. 

If he thought of what this new incarnation reminded him of when they first met, it would be sunshine. Sunshine and smiles and hope. 

A far cry from the deep winter she had been before. No, the Scotsman had been wise. He had hidden the soft hearts all Doctors had under a grouchy exterior, holding even his travel companions at an arm's length. And even he had looked wounded, towards the end.

She had no such boundary. She held conversations easily, stuck around, blended in with humans the best she ever had. She showed her kindness freely, generally without the reserve or arrogance the others had had. The humans were drawn to follow her, accept her, even.

She could have the replacement family he saw she craved for.

And it would ruin her.

They would leave her, tired of her forever war, or get hurt or get killed, just like they always did. And she never learned.

She would be alone and crushed, and crushed worse than the others had been.

Because if the sunniest, most hopeful of them all couldn't keep a family together, who would? 

Then he just had to wait for her to realise that she needed him as much as badly as he needed her. The mayflies might come and go; they were the cliffs of the world. Old and weathered but withstanding all trials.

There was a risk, of course, that she would withdraw to grieve as the others had. A risk she would retire for a time. 

But he knew one thing for certain: she would never give up the fight. She would keep trying, foolishly, a one woman army well aware of her own strength, her power to reshape the universe.

She would come to see that the universe needed a guiding hand, and who better than herself?

So, part two: wait for things to go wrong. Because they always. Went. Wrong.

And then they would be together again. United, the unstoppable renegade Time Lords. Just as it had been when they were children. 

Just as it always should be.


End file.
